


The Adventure of the Stolen Stockings

by EmAndFandems



Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Banter, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Living Together, Logic, Post-Canon, Prompt Fill, Sherlock Holmes's Retirement, Socks, and the challenges that come with that, holmes is a little shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:21:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28481595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmAndFandems/pseuds/EmAndFandems
Summary: “Have you seen my—” Dr. Watson entered the sitting room fully intending to finish his sentence, but was stopped dead by the sight with which he was met. Sherlock Holmes was seated in his armchair, as was his custom. He was reading a book with a title longer than some newspaper headlines: also not unusual. The only thing striking about the scene was the fact that from the ankles down he was dressed in clothing not his own.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson
Comments: 10
Kudos: 23





	The Adventure of the Stolen Stockings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Demon_Of_Inconvenience](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demon_Of_Inconvenience/gifts).



> Written for Demon_Of_Inconvenience, who sent me the prompt, “Oh, you’ve started stealing my socks now?” <3

“Have you seen my—” Dr. Watson entered the sitting room fully intending to finish his sentence, but was stopped dead by the sight with which he was met. Sherlock Holmes was seated in his armchair, as was his custom. He was reading a book with a title longer than some newspaper headlines: also not unusual. The only thing striking about the scene was the fact that from the ankles down he was dressed in clothing not his own.

“Oh, you’ve started stealing my socks now?”

Holmes did not look up from his book. He crossed his legs so that the offending article of clothing was displayed more prominently. “How was I to know they were yours?”

“They were in my room,” said Watson, very patiently.

“Were they?” Holmes turned a page.

“In my drawer,” said Watson, still patiently.

“If you say so.”

“They've got my name on them,” said Watson, dropping all pretense of patience, and advancing on the guilty party. “You’re a detective; you’re meant to notice these little clues.”

Holmes raised a finger but not his eyes. “Retired detective,” he noted.

“In that case you can hardly be blamed for the lapse,” said Watson, taking refuge in sarcasm as only a man tried to the utmost can.

“You understand perfectly,” said Holmes, smiling, as he finally set aside the volume.

Watson crossed his arms. “You’ve got socks of your own, Holmes. I understand nothing.”

“It’s perfectly simple.” Holmes steepled his fingers over his chest and took in a deep breath.

“From my observations I believe I may deduce you intend to begin an explanation of your reasoning,” Watson interjected, “and I formally lodge my objections.”

“Registered,” said Holmes, and went on anyway. “You see, my dear doctor, it is to be expected— is it not?— that after a full day’s work in the fields, unprotected from the elements, one might be chilled?”

“Yes, but what has that to do with anything?”

“I was getting to that. Might I be allowed to progress unencumbered by these interruptions if I promise faithfully to arrive at the point eventually?”

Watson agreed and Holmes closed his eyes.

“Taking it as given, therefore, that such conditions cause such a reaction, would you grant that even a jacket could be insufficient for an English afternoon spent outdoors?”

He would.

“Would you grant that having spent half a day in the discomfort of such circumstances is quite enough to incite a desire for warmth?”

He would.

“Have you ever noticed, Watson, that your socks are made by a different manufacturer than are mine?”

He could not say that he had.

“Almost as soon as I met you— from the very moment I first saw you replace your shoes with slippers for Mrs. Hudson’s peace of mind— I noticed that your hosiery was of a finer weave than mine. It was a quality I admired tremendously. I resolved at the time to acquire a similar pair for my own use; it is to my utmost regret that I have allowed the matter to slip from my mind until now.”

This was a falsehood for which Watson could not stand. “You, Holmes, have never forgotten anything in your life unless it suited you.”

“A dismal untruth,” remarked Holmes serenely. “I assure you there have been several occasions of my forgetting certain details that would undoubtedly have aided me in my efforts had I retained them. In one such occurrence I misplaced a spoon and was therefore a week delayed in catching a notorious assassin. My mind is impressive, I will admit, but not infallible. I forgot the idea of getting new socks because it was not the sort of thing that struck me as important. I see now that I was wrong.”

“Don’t let the journalists hear you say that.”

“Oh, I don’t intend to. I make a point of not—”

“—consorting with that type,” finished Watson along with him. “Yes.”

“Well, then.” Holmes spread his hands. “I believe the rest is simple enough to infer without my assistance.”

Watson crossed his arms. “You stole my socks because you were cold?”

“Oh bravo.”

Sherlock Holmes was a man capable of blistering smugness. It was one of his finer qualities.

“And what am I meant to do without my socks?” Watson demanded.

Holmes shrugged. “Quite frankly I see no alternative. If you leave the flat sockless you will run the risk of contracting several dangerous ailments by way of a weakened immune system from exposure; also, a man in your position is never to enter society in such a state of disrobement, lest the authorities be alerted as to his scandalous situation. In short, you must remain indoors, for the sake of your health as well as your reputation.”

Watson opened his mouth, thought better of what he had been about to say, and closed it again. After a moment of consideration, he said, “If you wanted to keep me homebound, you could have just said.”

“Ah,” said Holmes, raising a finger, “but then I wouldn’t have warm socks on.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was a lot of fun to write! Let me know what you thought of it?


End file.
